


At Least We Tried

by AliveAndAlight



Category: Splatoon, Splatoon 2
Genre: 8 and 4 have an adventure back into the abandoned test tracks, Action/Adventure, Callie and Marie are only mentioned but will actually appear later I promise, Fan-Characters, Gen, Octo Expansion, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-06-08 02:14:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15233133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliveAndAlight/pseuds/AliveAndAlight
Summary: Agent 8 returns to the Kamabo Co. testing facility to get to the bottom of its sudden, unexplained revival. Agent 4 tags along.





	1. But is our fate to spray this hate?

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I'm not dead and I'm back with some sick Splatoon fics yeehaw
> 
> This one follows the story of my versions of Agent 8 and 4, which is why they are labeled as fan characters. I am not writing about the canon agents 8/4!
> 
> Anyways, I wanted to dive into some of my headcanons about sanitization, so hey, why not do a fic?  
> Sorry this one was so short. I just wanted a quick intro to get my idea out there. I'll try to finish this one up fairly quickly!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agents 3 and 8 dive back into the Deepsea Metro, looking for answers to save 8's long lost 'friends'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello!! i'm excited to be working on this fic. i'm still extremely out of practice so i apologize for any grammatical errors, or issues that i didn't fix while proofreading. it may also be short, because i'm not used to writing insanely long chapters.
> 
> i hope you enjoy!!

“Sanitization,” the curious squid questioned, “What exactly does that mean?”

Agent 8 looked at the abandoned test track. Nobody had touched it since the… Incident, to say the least. No new test subjects. Nobody going to the surface. The only thing that remained was the merry little metro that click-clacked its way along the tracks.

“I'm not sure.” Agent 8 answered, her gaze still blankly fixed in the distance. “I was told that it basically means sacrificing your free will. But, honestly, I feel like I'd almost done that anyways, going through the tests.” She rested her head in the palm of her hand, before continuing, “I feel like it was more of a way to cater to Tartar’s plan. Gotta have an alliance who will do your bidding without question, I suppose.”

Agent 4, the young yellow-tentacled inkling, gave her octoling friend a tilted glare, expressing her confusion. “But, that does sound like giving up your free will. Being forced to work for the bad guy, you know?”

“I don't think it's the same.” Agent 8 finally turned her head to meet Agent 4’s gaze. “All those sanitized slaves I fought… I know I'd seen a hint of life still in some of them. Giving up your free will is your choice. Tartar just made it easier to get them to give it up.”

“Woah.” 4 leaned her head forward. “That's deep, dude. Was it hard?”

“What?” 8 questioned, her attention completely drawn by the question. “The tests?”

4 leaned her head back and stared up blankly. “No, I mean, killing them. The Sanitized ones. They did die, didn't they?”

8 stood up, unsure of how to respond. Regardless, she recalled how it felt to the best of her ability; their eyes, their faces, the chambers, the sounds, the smell… “It was hard. They were alive once. They could have still been alive. In their state, though, I think it was mercy. They were prisoner to themselves. Only a ghost within a hollow shell. I never want to do it again.” She sighed as she finished.

Agent 4 looked up at 8. She wanted to believe her friend, but it sounded strange to her. 8 had adorned herself with her old clothing from her test subject days, ID bands and all. The octoling always talked about never wanting to come back whenever her testing days were brought up. Yet, here they were, sitting in the empty husk of the underground facility.

4 stood. “Then, why’d you come back?” She said, a genuine sense of curiosity in her tone.

The octoling took a moment to respond, still caught between the thoughts in her head. “I wanted to know if I could save them. The rest of them. I wanted to know if there was a better way to free them other than, you know…”

“Murdering them?” 4 bluntly responded.

“Yeah,” 8 muttered. “Exactly that.”

The air between the two went silent, only ever interrupted by the ambient noises of the abandoned test chamber, and the occasional stirring of the lost, remaining sanitized octarians wandering the track. 4, however, couldn't quite tolerate the quiet and uncomfortable atmosphere she had created, so she stood up and gave her companion a pat on the back.

“I think that's a pretty noble cause! You're free now, you could've totally just shrugged them off as some bad memory, but you came back to save the rest of the Octolings down here. That's really brave!” The inkling encouraged with a smile.

Agent 8 smiled back, laughing just a bit at 4’s attempt to brighten the mood. She had to appreciate the young inkling’s optimism.

“Thanks,” 8 finally replies, scratching the back of her head as a gesture of humble embarrassment. 

4 turned and started to skip in the direction of the train. “You got any idea where to start? You dragged me all the way down to these old test tracks, so you seem to have some kind of clue.” 

“I might have an idea, yes.” 8 followed behind the short inkling, climbing over a few beams to reach the boarding platform.

4 greeted C.Q. with a jolly ‘hello!’ while 8 simply passed him a wave. They seated themselves in the back of the carts, allowing them a hint of privacy in the dimly lit train. 

“So,” 8 began, “I'd managed to find the layout of this place - the same one Marina got ahold of from the employee model CQ-80.”

“Oh!” 4 interrupted, “You mean, like, back when 3 saved you from getting smoothied-”

“Let's- Let’s not talk about that! Not right now.” 8 frantically quieted the topic. “But, correct, that CQ-80. Marina was only looking for a way out. I found some facilities that I didn't originally see.”

8 pulled up a picture of a map on her CQ-80, displaying the challenging phases within the statue that she once faced while ascending to the ‘promised land’. 

“Right about, here.” 8 held a finger to the phase titled the ‘intestinal phase’. “When I was travelling through this area, I saw strange IV-bags of green fluid. It looked almost like the, uh,” The young octoling hesitated to continue, “...DNA that Tartar collected. I hope it's not, though.”

“Huh. So, you think that it will help you find a cure for sanitization?” 4 tilted her head.

“Not quite,” 8 responded in correction, “but I think it may be used for the sanitization process. If I'm right, then I may be able to use it as a stepping stone.”

“Smart idea! Find the source to solve the problem!” 4 cheered, fully in favor of the plan. “Though, aren't all the employee areas still locked?” The inkling inquired.

8 rubbed her chin. “You are right, I hadn't thought about that. Kamabo Co. is no longer in operation, why would the place still be under lock?”

“And if Tar-man kicked the bucket, shouldn’t this place be, I dunno, empty?” 4 added to 8’s question.

The two looked at each other like they'd begun to piece together the truth. C.Q. Cumber had reassured 8 upon her arrival that the metro would continue to run despite the fall of Kamabo, yet never mentioned the rest of the facility’s functions.

“You think…” 4 continued her speculation. “Kamabo was picked up by someone else? A lackey? Some kind of successor?”

8’s eyes widened. “Those octarians we saw in the test chamber… They shouldn't have been there. The tracks are supposed to be abandoned. I- they- they should've all been dead from the last time I ran these tracks. 4, you might be right.”

“Oh no,” 4’s tone fell grim.


	2. A Smile So Faint, It Hides Your Feint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agent 8 and Agent 4 climb through the Intestinal Phase to try and dig deeper into the secret of the Sanitized Octolings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a bit of a short one, but I'll hopefully make up for that with the next chapter!

“So,” 4 kicked a piece of rubble from the platform she stood on, sending it into the blackness of the pit below them. “How did nobody ever find this place? I mean, huge underground corporation built into a human statue?” She finished.

 

8 cautiously sidled across one of the railings, doing her best not to plummet to her death. The place was far easier to navigate with less Octarians crowding the perimeter, yet it didn't quite make the route any easier to traverse.

 

The “back-way,” as 8 called it, was similar to the route that the octoling had originally taken when making her ascent to the surface. It wasn’t the quickest way, but it was certainly more discreet than attempting to locate the employee areas, given the risk that this place wasn’t completely abandoned.

 

Finally, after maintaining a solid grip, 8 responded, “You tell me! Inklings kind of own the surface. Wouldn't somebody have investigated this?”

 

4 shrugged, she wasn't quite sure what to say. “I have no idea. I never paid much attention, honestly.” 

 

Suddenly, the loud, echoing clatter of the rubble finally hitting the ground resonated through the area, startling 8, causing her to briefly lose her grip. She panickedly grabbed the closest pole and clung for dear life with a solid death grip. 4, on the other hand, gawked as she stared down into the darkness below them.

 

“Woah, it took that long to hit something? I didn't think it was  _ that _ far down.” The inkling tilted her head.

 

“Yeah!” 8 responded with a nervous crack in her tone, “And, if our theory about this place still being in operation is correct, then we should really,  _ really _ try to be quiet!” She finished with a bit of desperation in her tone as she finally reached a solid platform. 4 fearlessly mimicked 8’s route and clambered across the railing with little problem. Absolutely baffled by 4’s lack of hesitation, 8 asked, “Have you done this before?”

 

“I climb a lot. I'm not scared of heights.” 4 paused for a moment, pondering, before returning a question to the apprehensive Octoling; “Why are you nervous? Weren't you trained to handle tons of stuff?”

 

“Yes. I mean, no… Maybe?” 8 muttered, in-between pulling open a rusty old vent as quietly as she possibly could. “Perhaps, before I forgot everything. It's feels like it could be there, but it's not.” She lowered herself into the vent with extreme care to prevent any noise. 

 

“There, but not, huh? Kinda like your memories of Agent 3?” 8 flinched at so much as the name of her old enemy. As soon as 4 noticed, she waved her hands and continued, “Sorry, sorry! Still a touchy topic! Sorry.”

 

“I'm- it's- you're fine,” 8 finally responded, a hint of hesitation in her voice. “It's okay. Don't worry about it, it's just something that we will have to work out on our own. You haven't done anything wrong, 4.” With a soft, genuine smile towards her friend, 8 lowered her head into the air duct. Once she was settled, she gestured for 4 to follow her into the vent.

 

“Oh! Is it like a spy mission?” 4 excitedly asked as she clambered into the vent.

 

“Kind of, at least, until we're sure there's nobody here. For now...” 8 didn't complete her sentence, but instead, held a finger over her lips to let 4 know that it was best to be silent. With a determined nod of understanding, 4 followed behind 8 through the dusty and musty old vents. 

 

Admittedly, 8 had no idea what to expect. The Intestinal Phase was always a bit of a blur to her; all she could clearly recall was the sounds of lasers, the smell of the sickly green ink, and the ramblings of that blasted phone. It was all a rush. But, this time it was different. It was quiet. The halls echoed with the low hum of the dim lights, occasionally flickering from age. There were no lasers, no foes, no panicked fleeing. It was truly abandoned.

 

8 slipped through a wide vent grate in her octopus form, and carefully surveyed her surroundings before shifting back to normal. 4 did the same; she was practically bursting with excitement, yet withheld herself from expressing it. 

 

The Kamabo Co. logo was displayed on a glass wall, lightly reflecting the dim lights. It was darker than the last time she visited this area, but she certainly recognized the place. The term “superfluous nobodies” followed by some alarmed remarks sprung to mind as 8 caught a glimpse of a dysfunctional laser set-up around the glass panel. All the doors were still open, everything seemed relatively untouched.

 

In one direction, just past the glass pane, a grate covering a long drop. In the other direction, a hall that was once a minefield of security beams. 

 

This was the place, alright.

 

“This is it. I only ever saw these corridors while climbing to the surface, but the map showed that this place was  _ so _ much bigger than it seems.” 8 spoke with the slightest hint of fascination in her tone. As much as she wanted to explore the rest of the place, she knew what she was here for. “This way, 4! If my memory serves correctly, there was some kind of storage area just past here.”

 

She was right. Just past the glass pane was a descent that took them straight to the end of the Intestinal Phase. As 8 saw the green light passing through the windows in the distance, she vividly recalled using this route to reach the Diaphragm Phase. 

 

The area was lit a noxious green hue, and the churning sounds rumbling from the pipes coiling to the surface made the room feel like some kind of bad dream. Within the dark windows lining the walls were various suspicious looking boxes, followed by racks lined with plastic packages of the viscous teal-green fluid that 8 had described. In a way, they almost resembled IV drips, just as 8 had described. 

 

4’s shoulders tensed up as her excitement was quickly replaced by apprehension. The aura of the room gave her a terrible vibe. “You weren’t kidding. You think they really put that green sludge  _ in _ people?”

 

“I hope not,” 8 breathed, feeling a tightness well within her chest. “Knowing what it’s likely made of, I really hope not.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I remember passing through this area on my first run. The atmosphere shift after falling down that shaft took me for a loop, an I had to hang around to take it in before proceeding to the next phase. I really wanted to capture how I felt in this chapter!


	3. With watchful eye, I breathe a sigh.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agent 8 and Agent 4 run into some trouble during their investigation, yet the answers dwindle ever so closely, just out of reach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised a longer chapter, and I delivered a longer chapter!  
> I debated on cutting this one off at the scene split, but decided against it. I really wanted to get both scenes out.  
> I also fixed the strange spacing. Hopefully it isn't too much of a trouble to read.

Bits of broken glass lay scattered across the floor, reflected the dim green light of the murky ocean, just beyond the walls. Agent Four stood staring at the pieces of glass in silence. Agent Eight had broken into the storage rooms by shattering one of the glass panes. Four was suck in a paralyzed horror. The poor squid had a complete attitude change after Eight did her best to explain what exactly the “DNA” that Commandard Tartar collected was.

Blended Octolings, Four kept repeating in her head, the green fluid was the DNA of dead, blended Octolings, the primed genetics of those who were capable of passing all the tests. All the subjects who were lured in with the bright and hopeful reward of the “Promised Land,” believing they would finally be able to see the surface.

The “Promised Land” wasn’t the surface. It was the afterlife, masked in an ever-so-welcoming bundle of misconstruing words.

Four’s thought process was interrupted as Eight crawled through the broken window, carrying a small wooden crate in her hands. The little squid felt her stomach churn again as she saw the sludgy, teal, plastic-wrapped contents. She couldn’t help but turn her head away to prevent herself from hurling.

Though repulsed, Four couldn’t help but notice Eight’s equal unease. For all she knew, the poor Octoling was likely closer to the brink of retching than herself. She couldn’t imagine the feeling; having to be practically surrounded by the packaged remains of her liquified brethren.

“According to- _hrgk-_ ” Eight was definitely about to puke. She put down the crate and took a few steps back, drawing long breaths to recollect herself. Four was already preparing herself for it, shoulders tensed and eyes squeezed firmly shut.

Thankfully, after a moment, Eight felt the burning in her throat cease. She closed the lid to the crate and shoved it away with her foot, allowing her a moment to speak without having to focus on the pale glowing slime. With a single, deep breath, she continued.

“According to Tartar’s plans, or what was left of them after the statue was nearly blown to smithereens, what he had made was generations of work. I mean, there were ten thousand and _eight_ of us, at least.

Ten thousand and eight Octolings that he had to meticulously create, raise, and test, and only the best, the ones who were able to complete the tests and collect the Thangs, were used to create his ‘perfect’ DNA. The rest? Sanitized to use as mindless slaves who won't whine or argue or resist. And how do you think you ‘sanitize’ an Octarian to be as close to a perfect being as possible?”

Eight gestured with a tilt of the head to the crate that she stole. “Give them the DNA of those you deem perfect. My theory was right.”

Four was back on the verge of losing her lunch. “Oh my cod, they sanitize Octarians with their dead brethren.”

Eight continued. “From my observation, Tartar could have potentially even used the DNA to create new subjects to-”

“HOLY CLAMS, YOU’RE A CLONE?” Four interrupted with a ghastly shriek. The cry echoed ominously through the empty halls.

Eight was taken aback by the sheer volume of Four’s shouting. “No! Shhh!” She frantically covered the hysterical squid’s beak. “No, Four. That one you can rest assured on. According to Cap, before I lost all my memories, I was most likely one of Octavio’s mind-controlled goons prior to ending up in the metro.”

“Oh.” Four let out an over exaggerated sigh. She awkwardly tried to turn the uncomfortable situation around as she began to ramble, “I mean, not that being a clone is a bad thing, I just think-”

“Uh, Four?” Eight attempted to intervene.

“-I would've needed some time to adjust to that, y’know, you would've been-”

“Four?” Eight’s tone grew more desperate.

“-made of your _dead predecessors’ raw DNA_ and that would have just-”

“ _Four!!_ ” Eight finally raised her voice, just a moment too late. The putter-sputter of a sanitized Octocopper fluttered overhead caught the attention of the two cephalopod agents. They were wielding a bright, blinding spotlight, directed towards the intruding kids. “ _Run!_ ” Just as the sound of an alarm triggered, Eight grabbed Four by the wrist and made a mad dash back into the facility for cover.

“What about the cra-” Four tried to comment, but was quickly hushed by Eight.

“Forget the crate! Get to the vents!” The Octoling frantically pulled out her Octoshot and painted a disorderly yet useable trail of ink back up the shaft. The pair dashed up the path and through the iron grate, retracing their steps back to the vent that they entered. The Octocopper couldn’t follow them past the grate, yet they knew it was still lingering, waiting, alerting any other sentries nearby. Staying any longer would bring chaos.

Eight lifted Four into the rusted vent, following barely a moment behind her Inkling companion. Once they were hidden, they remained in silence, waiting, listening, hoping for a clear sign.

The waiting was almost painful.

_Tap. Tap. Tap._

The sound of footsteps passed by them. Small; light. Perhaps an Octotrooper. Neither bothered to attempt to look, neither bothered to know, they were far too focused on keeping their breaths light and their bodies still. Regardless of what it was, they couldn’t risk being spotted.

Eight looked over her shoulder at Agent Four. She had never done a true stealth mission. She had never experienced the risk of being caught and losing it all. She was still as a stone and terrified for her life.

_Tap. Tap. Tap…_

The footsteps passed. The corridor fell silent. The alarm hushed. All that could be heard was the almost reassuring sound of the humming vents.

Four exhaled dramatically; she’d grown overwhelmingly lightheaded from holding her breath. “Is it safe?”

Eight wasn’t sure herself. It seemed like everything had returned to its eerily quiet state.

“For now, yes.” Eight whispered in a reassuring tone. Agent Four smiled, she knew that Eight was trying to calm her down, but she understood to the fullest.

What had happened was only the beginning.

_________________________________________________________

 

It had been two days since their harrowing venture back into the depths of the Deepsea Metro. Eight hadn’t spoken much to Agent Four in that timeframe, yet a lingering regret muddled with an overwhelming sense of determination filled her mind and clouded her thoughts.

For the majority of the two days, she had remained in the confines of her makeshift room, generously provided to her by none other than Pearl and Marina. The three had been living together ever since Eight had escaped the Deepsea Metro. It was safer that way, since there had been yet to be any news about the two of them being Octolings. At this rate, Pearl’s house might as well have been a secret Octoling refuge.

Eight could vaguely hear footsteps outside her door, followed by some mumbling that she couldn’t quite make out.

She knew it was Pearl and Marina. She knew they were going to ask why she’d holed herself up the past few days. She’d come up with an endless amount of excuses for this very moment, but she knew it was for the best that they knew the truth behind what happened.

The door opened. Eight smiled.

“Eight? Hey, how are you doing?” Marina asked. She closed the door behind her, leaving the two alone. “You’ve been in here for almost two whole days. I’m not even sure if you’ve eaten. Are you okay?”

Eight’s eyes were unfocused and distant, yet she responded with a dry voice, “Yes, I’m fine.”

“If that’s not the most blatant lie I’ve ever heard…” Marina chuckled. “What’s got your head in a spin?”

Marina seated herself in the spare bean bag next to Eight. Eight found an odd sense of comfort near Marina; perhaps it was just the relief of being with her own kind, or maybe Marina just carried an ever-so-comforting aura with her. Regardless, Eight couldn’t help but smile at her friend’s concern.

“I went back.” Eight muttered, almost stuttering on the simple sentence. “Back, to the Metro. I wanted to know about-”

“I know, Eight. It’s okay. Thanks for being upfront.” Marina intervened with a slight sway of her head.

Eight was in shock for a split second, before lowering her head and closing her eyes. She inhaled deeply, then chuckled. She knew exactly what happened. “Agent Four called you?”

“We had been wanting to ask you what’s wrong ever since you came home from being out for so long, but we just weren’t sure what to do. You didn’t even respond when we made udon for you last night! You _love_ udon!” Marina caught herself going off track, and finally responded more directly, “Yes, Four called us a bit ago. She… told us everything. She said it’s been eating her up, too.”

“You’re not mad or anything… Are you?” Eight carried the weight of her regret in her tone.

“How could I ever be mad at you, Eight? You risked your life to try and find a solution to saving our kind. I think that’s incredible.” Marina encouraged with a sincere smile.

Eight smiled, but it was moderately forced. She wanted to make some remark about, ‘but we didn’t bring anything back,’ or ‘we have no further leads,’ but her rampant thoughts were silenced when she felt Marina wrap her arms around her and pull her in for a hug. The forced smile melted away into a genuine one, and Eight was filled with a sense of calming reassurance.

“Thank you, Marina. Really, thank you.” Eight returned the hug. She was never one for physical touch, but she desperately needed the condolence.

Eight let go and leaned back, wiping the tiniest hint of a tear from her eye. “I need to talk to Four. This… This needs closure.” She paused, then returned her gaze back to Marina. “Do you and Pearl want to get smoothies?”

Marina nodded gleefully. “Absolutely, Eight!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We now have Pearl and Marina joining us! And there's some Friendship Tension, oh boy!


	4. A stray shot shakes the trees awake.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Agents finally come together to put certain mistakes far behind them in order to further their investigation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need to... be better about writing longer chapters. But I'll get near 2000 words and be like, "YEAH I think that covers everything" idk man
> 
> anyways, this one is a little slower and focuses more on the relationships of the characters, but it was fun to write anyways!

It was getting late. 

The sun had almost completely set behind the sparkling, dancing waves of the calm pink ocean. It was just the right time at dusk where everything was painted in a lovely array of pink, gold, and orange. The summer air was cool and tolerable, the sea breeze smelled soothing. To most, it would have been such a nice time to be out, to take in the world, and relax. Not for Eight, though. She tapped her fingers against the table round metal in a rhythmic fashion, holding her head up in her other hand. Pearl, Marina, and herself had been waiting for nearly two hours. 

Four rounded the corner of the building. Her eyes met with Eight’s directly, before drifting to make contact with the other two. “Sorry I’m late. I had to do something… Find someone important before coming.”

“You could’ve, I dunno, texted one of us?” Pearl’s tone was sharp and impatient, her tolerance had run thin. “Your smoothie is totally melted by now, but we saved it for you anyways. Eight was determined to make sure you got it.”

Four pulled out a chair at the table, and slowly took a seat with the rest. It was dead silent, the only ambiance that filled the air was the soft ocean wind and the occasional chirping of distant birds. She observed her surroundings incredibly carefully before choosing her next words. With a sharp inhale, she finally spoke, “I’m sorry, Eight. About what happened. I don’t know why I… What drove me to think the way I did. It was immature and I overreacted.”

Knowing Four’s personality, she often spoke on a whim, with extensive detail to prove her point or make an apology. Eight knew that Four had planned this out. It was short, sweet, and to the point. She had likely rehearsed it over and over, trying to get it just right. And even then, she stuttered a bit, trying not to let all the thoughts in her head spill out. Eight knew that the past two days for the poor young squid may have been nothing but trying to find just the right words, the ones that would sound genuinely serious despite her carefree and rambunctious personality. She felt bad, almost, but touched at the same time.

Eight gently grabbed Four’s hand, and gave her a reassuring smile. She wasn’t upset. “Four, I’m sorry too. I let my feelings get the best of me, and I jumped to conclusions. It wasn’t safe to bring you there. It’s my fault for putting you at risk. Your reaction, after all that had happened, was absolutely understandable.”

“Thanks,” Four pulled her hand away. Her eyes were unfocused and directed to the ground; she didn’t want to make eye contact with Eight anymore. Something else was up. “I don’t blame you for what happened. Marina said that what we found out was a huge discovery. But I couldn’t… I just- There was- You needed to-” Four had choked up. She wanted to accept the apology wholeheartedly, she loved her friend so much, but she couldn’t. She knew what was about to happen. 

“Four? What’s wrong?” Eight spoke with a slight coo in her voice, trying to condole the sobbing mess of an Inkling. 

“Three’s here. I’m sorry.” Four was bawling. Eight had stiffened, and her eyes widened. “I know you didn’t want to see her, but I didn’t know what else to do.” The inkling said, trying to make her words as clear as possible beyond her tears and choked voice.

Eight’s sight slowly drifted up. Sure enough, atop the building next to the seaside tables, that familiar cape and outfit, bright pink eyes, and long tentacles stood above them. Marina had reached over and grabbed Eight’s shoulder to make sure her fight or flight response stayed in order, while Pearl did her best to quiet poor sobbing Four.

Three and Eight had barely had any interaction since the defeat of Commandar Tartar. Between having to battle the mind-controlled Three and the ever-so-vivid memories of her ‘Inner Agent 3,’ the two stood on very indifferent terms with each other. Eight still held a sense of gratitude and warmth towards Three, for both saving her from the blender, and doing her best to make sure she was in a safe environment when she finally made it to Inkopolis. Yet still, that sense of near-instinctual terror always overwhelmed Eight when in the presence of the skilled agent. Four was fully aware that Eight was terrified of Three, yet the brave little squid knew this was the only way to reach full closure.

Marina, still on the optimistic side of things, did her best to calm the situation. “Hello Agent Three! Long time no see. It looks drafty up there, would you care to join us at the table? We’ve got one more seat.” 

Through gritted teeth and under her breath, Pearl added, “Are you sure that’s a good idea? I mean-”

“Shhh!” Marina quieted her before she had a chance to make any smug remarks. “I think this is the closure that Eight needs. Let whatever happens, happen.” She whispered, doing her best to make sure nothing reaches Eight’s ears. 

Three lept from the top of the building and landed with ease and elegance. It was almost graceful, had she not carried a deadpan look on her face. She gave the four a subtle nod as a greeting before taking a seat between Four and Pearl, directly across from Eight. Her arms were crossed and she held the right side of her face away from the group, yet in the bright sunset light, what she was hiding was obvious. 

A blotchy green patch of discolored skin swirled around her right eye and completely covered her ear. Though she had healed from the incident, the marks served as a permanent reminder of her brief time spent prisoner to her own body. Three had completely lost her voice since the accident, and had grown bitter and cold, scarcely showing much emotion.

Three had been living with the Squid Sisters ever since her return from the Deepsea Metro. Callie often spoke about how she hadn't been the same ever since. Though the lingering remnants of the “old Three” surfaced from time to time, it was no doubt that having the toxic swirling fluid had damaged her in more ways than just her face. Marie would ramble about how much of a fun-loving spirit Three used to be. The two cousins always seemed disheartened when they were faced with the bleak reality that whatever went on in Three’s head had scrambled her personality. Something went wrong.

Eight always felt that if she had stayed with Cap the unconscious Three after escaping their near-death experience with the blender, that Three would have never lost part of herself. That constant thought dug deep.

“I know it wasn't planned for you to be here,” Marina, once again calmly handling the situation, broke Eight’s train of thought. “...But I'm honestly glad you came. It seems like you guys have some things that really need to be brought to the table.”

* * *

 

“What was it like?” Eight questioned nervously. She had never thought to ask Three about what it felt like to be controlled like that. In a sense, Three had experienced what could be considered pseudo-Sanitization. If they were lucky, just maybe Three held the key to a new lead. A cure for the remainder of the lost. Three, however, was silent and grim. She didn’t want to think about it, it haunted her every day. She knew, however. She knew that she might have a hint to what Eight was looking for.

“Everything hurt.” Three croaked with an abhorred, broken voice. Her throat burned as she spat out the first words she’d spoken in months, causing her to gag and cough uncontrollably. Her voice sounded as if it had been crushed. It was worse than she thought it was. 

Nobody had expected Three’s voice to sound as bad as it did. Most had thought Three had gone mute after being exposed to the mind-controlling sludge, as all she could muster after the incident were desperate sounds and cries; no words to express her pain. In those two simple words alone, Three was able to release months of suffering. She was far more worse off than originally believed to be.

“Take it easy there, bud! You sound worse than me when I blew out my voice for a week.” Pearl commented, jokingly at first, but ending in sincere concern.

“But,” Four began to add, “She can talk, she hasn’t gone completely mute. That’s good, right?”

“Good that she still has a voice, but she sounded terrible. That sounded just as painful as it probably was to  _ say _ .” Marina added, taking notice of Three’s gagging. “Whatever that atrocious goop did to Three, it completely destroyed her vocals.”

Marina and Four began going back and forth with various details and remarks. Three didn’t seem to care that they were talking about her, she was still having trouble recollecting herself after pushing herself to speak. Three held her hand over her throat and took deep, wheezy breaths. Eight felt terrible watching her decline in state so quickly. Sympathetically, she reached over and gave her colleague a gentle pat on the back; it was the least she could do to help her friend. Three passed her a glance, yet not like her usual, serious expression. Her eyes were almost sorrowful.

Eight could almost feel the hurt that the poor squid felt. Her cold and emotionless nature were only partially derived from the accident; the rest, her voiceless pain, the suffering that she couldn’t express to anybody. Sign was the closest method to speaking she had, but even then, she never tried to release the internal turmoil that she had built up. It was a whirlwind of emotions stuffed inside a squid-sized bottle.

Eight opened her mouth to speak to Three, but her attention was quickly drawn to Four as she couldn’t help but overhear a fragment of her conversation.

“You think it was, like, a backup plan?” The short-tentacled squid asked.

Marina narrowed her eyes and tilted her head, she didn’t quite understand what was being asked for a moment. “What?” 

Four nodded, and continued, “Yeah, a backup plan. In case she came to her senses, which she  _ did _ , she couldn’t express what she experienced, meaning nobody could get that knowledge from her.” She shrugged her shoulders a bit, thinking it sounded a bit crazy. “I mean, sure, Tar-man wanted to blow up the world when Three happened to get infected with the sludge, so it wouldn’t have mattered had he gotten away with it, but what about before then?”

Marina’s eyes widened and an excited smile crossed her face. “Four, you might be onto something! We’ve only been thinking about our experience, but Tartar was around for  _ who knows _ how long before we showed up!” She pulled her laptop from her satchel and rapidly began jotting down personal notes. “How did we not think about this before?! This could have happened to others in the past, others who tried to escape!”

A grin grew on Pearl’s face as well. She looked around; Four and Marina making progress in the investigation, and a steadily healing relationship between Three and Eight. Things were going so much more smoothly than she could’ve hoped. Looking back to Marina, she leaned her seat back and commented, “So what’s the big plan?”

Marina’s loud typing ceased as she looked away from her notes. Still smiling as her eyes excitedly met Pearl's, she said, “It’s getting dark, this isn’t the best place to talk about this. We’re going back to our house; this is big!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alternate title: Agent Three says 2 words and DIES


End file.
